Vetitum Amoris
by InYourNightmares
Summary: Lucy Bingley is delighted that her brother has chosen Netherfield as their new home; she has always loved the fresh air of the countryside and longs to ride once more. While her siblings attend balls and make acquaintances, Lucy finds love with a groom who is more than he seems to be. Yet such a connection can only be destined for heartbreak. OC/OC, Canon pairings. Edited- 3rd Oct
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

On the eve of Miss Jane Bennet's long-awaited wedding to Mr. Charles Bingley, the eldest Bennet sisters had the privilege of sitting alone in the parlour. The preparations for the wedding had been so hectic that this was the first time in a week they could enjoy each other's company.

"I could not be more pleased in your choice of a husband, Jane," Elizabeth said. "But it pains me that you must spend much of your time in the company of Mr. Bingley's odious sisters, who have attempted to ruin your happiness."

Jane, as good-natured as ever, smiled back. "Oh come now, Lizzie. Mrs. Hurst will return to her own home soon. And Caroline has recently acquired herself a beau; I believe that she may soon be wed. The only sister who shall remain at Netherfield for any considerable amount of time is Miss Lucy and she did not partake in the scheme to separate dear Mr. Bingley and myself!"

Elizabeth was not impressed. "Lucy Bingley is twenty. She is old enough to have noticed the attachment Mr. Bingley had formed towards you and prevented her sisters from almost ruining his happiness. I will not allow her to be quite so scheming as Caroline; but she must be foolish indeed."

Jane was prevented a reply by the sound of the door opening. A servant entered the room and bowed. "Miss Lucy Bingley, here to see Miss Bennet."

Jane and Elizabeth exchanged a look of surprise. What could Miss Lucy be at Longbourne for? Though the young girl was out in society, it she rarely attended balls and social gatherings. Neither Jane nor Elizabeth had ever had a proper conversation with her. Lucy Bingley seemed bored and indifferent. Elizabeth had at first thought her to be just as proud as she had thought Mr. Darcy; and she was yet to be proven wrong in her opinion of Lucy.

Miss Lucy Bingley entered the room, and bowed to the Misses Bennet. Her bonnet was hanging precariously on her head and her dress was one that was comfortable for travelling on horseback. Indeed, Lucy was no delicate girl. She was of a good height and her passion for riding left her skin brown and her health strong. Her smile, however, was forced and reserved.

"Miss Bennet," Lucy greeted politely, dark green eyes locking with Jane's. "And Miss Elizabeth. Miss Bennet, I apologize for inconveniencing you on the eve of your wedding. I had hoped, that if you were not terribly busy, you would grant me a brief audience."

Jane smiled kindly. "Indeed, I am not busy at all. You are most welcome to come and join us. How does your family fare?"

Lucy smiled a little more genuinely as she took a seat in the parlor. "My brother is in excellent health, Miss Bennet, though he has become quite unbearable. He cannot restrain himself from repeatedly proclaiming how lucky he is to have gained such a wonderful bride as you. I agree with him wholeheartedly."

Jane thanked her, but Elizabeth could not help but be wary of Miss Lucy Bingley. What reason could she have to visit them alone on the eve of Jane's wedding? The girl looked very nervous; she was fiddling with the cloth of her skirt repeatedly.

"Are you well, Miss Lucy?" Elizabeth asked. "Perhaps riding out here alone has affected your health?"

Lucy shook her head. "I assure you that riding would never be detrimental to my health, Miss Elizabeth, it is one of my only true enjoyments. Any discomfort you may sense in me may be with regards to the purpose of my visit."

"The purpose of your visit?"

Lucy nodded. She cast a doubtful glance towards Elizabeth but the second Bennet sister had no intention of leaving the room. Resigning herself, Lucy began. "Miss Bennet. I have come here to offer you my sincerest apologies. It has come to my notice how terribly I must have acted during our acquaintance and I hope that once you are wed to my brother, we may begin anew as sisters."

"Miss Lucy, I cannot understand the reason for your apologies," Jane replied, startled. "I do not know what actions you speak of, for I have never felt myself to be offended by you."

"Perhaps not quite, Miss Bennet. My injuries towards you have not been caused by my actions but by my indifference. It was_ I_ who suggested to my sisters that we follow Charles to London, hence separating you from him. But you must believe that I had no idea of doing you any harm. My motives were purely selfish."

Jane and Elizabeth glanced at each other, confused. "Selfish? I do not understand you."

Lucy took a deep breath and closed her eyes briefly. When she opened them, she saw the two Bennet sisters watching her curiously. "Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth, our families will be united tomorrow. I am placing my trust in you, hoping that you will justify the high opinion that I have of you both. If word of these… _events_ reached anyone, even Charles or my sisters, my reputation would be ruined most dreadfully and all my prospects destroyed."

Elizabeth frowned. "And is this secret, Miss Lucy, of such a nature that it may harm anyone of our acquaintance?"

"It can harm no one but myself, Miss Elizabeth, I assure you of that. For this matter is very much in the past and can have no chance of resurfacing. I only wish to share it with you as a possible explanation for my actions."

"Miss Lucy, there is no need for this confidence," Jane insisted. "Neither I nor anyone in my family bears you any ill-will for your encouraging your family to move back to London at the time. If this secret is truly so damaging, I beg you will not force yourself to reveal it out of any obligation."

"I'm afraid that I do feel an obligation, Miss Bennet; not to yourself, but to my dearly beloved brother. Nothing would make him so happy as to see his wife on good relations with his family. I cannot speak for Caroline or Louisa, but I wish to begin _our _relationship as sisters with honesty and not misunderstandings. If once you hear my secret you feel that you must inform my brother of it, I will not stop you. Your morals and character are more to be trusted than mine. I extend this to you as well, Miss Elizabeth."

"If you wish to confide in us, Miss Lucy, we shall certainly not stop you. Indeed, your faith is flattering."

"I thank you. I promise that my story is not a very long one, but you may be quite shocked when you hear it. It all began when my family and I arrived at Netherfield…"


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

"Is it not delightful?" Lucy Bingley asked as the carriage rattled along the road to Netherfield. "Oh Charles, I am so glad that we have decided to stay in the country. Will there be many fields? Shall I be able to go riding? What is Netherfield like?"

Charles smiled at his youngest sister. His decision to sign the lease of Netherfield had been to ensure Lucy's happiness. Living in the city had made her quiet and withdrawn. She did not have her beloved horses there, and spent many hours alone in her room. Both Caroline and Louisa had expressed a concern for Lucy's health, although they did not agree that moving to the country was the best solution. "You shall certainly be able to ride, Lucy. I have had the horses sent there and I am told that there is an excellent groom to care for them. Mr. Darcy and I have already explored some of the vast fields."

Lucy beamed. "Oh Charles, this is so wonderful. I do not believe I have ever been more excited in my life!"

Caroline spoke up with a frown. "Yes, that is all very well, but what of the society? Will there be any balls? I hardly think that the uneducated country manners are a good influence for our impressionable young sister, Charles."

"Oh Caroline, I am not a child!" Lucy replied haughtily. "I will not be influenced by anyone with displeasing manners. I have no intention of interacting with the society at all. I shall spend my time riding and enjoying the nature."

"If that is not worse!" exclaimed Caroline. "Charles, you cannot mean to allow your sister to go scampering about the countryside on horseback. What a thing to do, when her time is better spent in the city finding herself a good husband! I shall not allow it."

Charles smiled at both his sisters indulgingly. "Lucy, you know that Caroline means well. All the same, I do think that we shall have a most delightful stay at Netherfield. Perhaps seeing the house itself will change your mind, Caroline, I assure you that it is most satisfactory."

Caroline frowned, but as the carriage made a turn and Netherfield came into view, she could not deny that the estate was indeed very satisfactory. The Bingley's descended from their carriage, followed by the Hursts who were close behind them in another. Servants moved to unload the luggage and Lucy stared at the sight around her, eyes wide and cheeks flushed with delight. "Oh, it's wonderful! Charles, I knew you had excellent taste. Where are the stables?"

Charles laughed. "Come sister, do not be so hasty. It is too late to visit the stables now. We shall all have dinner and retire. I assure you, your horse will be there in the morning."

Lucy's smile faltered but she nodded and followed her sisters inside, listening as they passed their remarks on each of the rooms. After a meal the entire company retired to bed early. Lucy found her rooms wonderful and was tired from the journey, but she could not sit still. After pacing repeatedly for over half an hour, she finally put on her dressing gown and quietly went downstairs.

Lucy avoided the servants and slipped outside through a small side door. It was not very late; the sky had only just gone dark and she could easily find her way over the grounds. The sound of horses neighing caused her to pick up her pace and before long she had pushed open the wooden door and entered the stables.

"Duchess!" Lucy cried, immediately spotting her beloved horse. She was a beautiful creature; black as night and she neighed at the sight of her owner. Lucy ran to embrace the horse and stroked it gently. Her coat had been recently brushed and she was as healthy as ever. "Oh, Duchess, how I have missed you. I hope you've been well taken care of!"

"Indeed she has."

The voice startled Lucy and she let out a squeak of surprise. Standing near the other side of the stables beside Charles' horse was a tall man. His clothes were a little muddy but his gait was confident and graceful as he approached her. Lucy's heartbeat slowed down when she realized that he must be one of the grooms. She unconsciously pulled her dressing gown tighter around herself.

"I apologize, my lady, I did not mean to startle you," the man insisted, bowing respectfully. As he came closer Lucy realized that he was not much older than her; while he was tall and well-built, his face had a rather youthful look to it. He smiled kindly. "I assure you that every possible care has been taken of your horse."

Lucy nodded, swallowing. "Of course. Thank you. May I know your name, sir?"

"My name is Andrew Felton, Miss Bingley. I am the head groom here at Netherfield,"the man replied, bowing once more. His speech was clear and perfect; there was none of the crudeness or uneducated slang that most of the servants had and Lucy wondered that a groom should speak so well. He certainly did not look like a gentleman. His skin was brown and his hair uncombed and messy.

"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Felton. I can see that Duchess has been well cared for. I could not resist the urge to her see her before I went to bed, I never imagined that I would be interrupting your duties."

"You are not interrupting them at all, Miss Bingley. I was merely ensuring that the horses were secure before locking up, unless you would wish to spend more time with Duchess?" he asked, glancing towards the horse. "She is a most beautiful creature. I was very surprised to learn that she belonged to you. Such horses are not usually preferred by ladies."

Lucy smiled. Charles had often teased her that all any man needed to do to win Lucy's heart was to compliment Duchess. She tore her gaze away from Andrew Felton and stroked the horse. "I have had her since she was a foal, and I'm afraid no other animal can compare. But I would not wish to delay your locking up of the stables. Do excuse me."

Felton bowed as Lucy exited the stables and he followed her, ensuring that the last horse was secure before stepping away from it. He turned and saw Lucy watching Duchess' stall wistfully. It had been a while since he had seen another human being so passionate about an animal. Felton had heard much about the youngest Miss Bingley, but he had never taken much stock in rumors. "It is quite late, Miss Bingley. May I escort you back inside the manor?"

Lucy flushed when she noticed that Felton was watching her. She wondered briefly why she felt so embarrassed in the presence of a servant. Head groom or not, he was merely in her brother's employment. There was no need to blush as though he was courting her. "No thank you, Felton. I'm afraid that my family is unaware of my coming to the stables. They would surely not appreciate my leaving the house after dark alone so I must return… discreetly."

Felton bowed and smiled. "Of course, Miss Bingley, you have my… discretion."

Lucy said goodbye quickly and hurried back indoors, thinking that life would perhaps be very interesting at Netherfield. She went to bed and dreamed of riding Duchess through the countryside.

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"Ah! Well, here is your horse, Lucy!" Charles Bingley declared as they entered the stables the next day. Mr. Darcy had arrived early that morning and suggested that they explore the nearby countryside before lunch. Caroline and Louisa had declined and Mr. Hurst had yet to get out of bed. Charles was only too eager to show his sister the beauty of Hertfordshire and so the three of them had come down to the stables.

Duchess had been brought out of her stall and saddled, along with the two other horses that belonged to Charles and Mr. Darcy. Charles waved an arm in the direction of Lucy's black horse. "Does she not look well?"

Lucy smiled. Although she had already greeted Duchess the previous night, she moved towards the horse and stroked her gently. The horse pushed her face lovingly into Lucy's hand. "Indeed she looks very well, brother. I can see she has been taken care of."

Andrew Felton was fixing the last strap on Mr. Bingley's horse and he bowed when he noticed the two gentlemen and lady approaching. Mr. Bingley complimented Felton on how excellently the horses were being taken care of and how quickly they had been saddled and made ready to go riding. Then Charles turned to his sister. "Lucy, this is Felton, the head groom. I'm told he's been at Netherfield for some time now, and it is clear that he has quite a way with the horses," Charles declared.

Felton bowed to Lucy politely. When he straightened up, there was a glint of mischief in his brown eyes, which looked straight into Lucy's with no hesitation. She smiled in return. Charles and Mr. Darcy were already mounting their horses. "Indeed. Well, Felton, perhaps you may show us the best places to ride in the vicinity, when time permits," she said.

"It would be my pleasure, Miss Bingley," Felton replied. He waited until Lucy moved around to the side of Duchess before bending down and joining his hands for her to place her foot in. Lucy attempted to hide the blush on her cheeks and allowed him to boost her up with surprising strength and fluidity. Once she was comfortably seated side-saddle, she thanked Felton and followed her brother and Mr. Darcy, who were already a little ahead of her.

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	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

"Are you excited for the ball, miss?" the maid asked Lucy as she gently tugged at Lucy's hair. Her name was Emma and while she was sweet and helpful, she also talked a little too much. It did not take Lucy Bingley long to realize that her maid enjoyed gossip. "The balls here are very nice, miss, I've been told. And the whole town is eager to meet the new tenants of Netherfield, miss. I think you'll be quite welcomed, you will."

Lucy nodded, trying to stay still as her hair was curled from behind. She wasn't particularly eager for the ball. While she was loath to agree with Caroline on such a topic, she had to admit that her sister was right. The society in Hertfordshire would undoubtedly be very eager to meet the Bingleys and they would be the center of attention. The idea discomforted her. "I am sure we shall be welcomed very well."

"Indeed, miss." Emma, unable to stay silent for far too long, searched for a topic to engage her mistress in while her hair was curled. "Did you have a nice ride this morning, miss? It was quite late when you returned, was it not? I hear your brother went with you."

"And Mr. Darcy as well. Yes, we had an excellent ride. I had hoped to go on further, but Charles was afraid that we should be late for lunch if we did not turn back. I shall certainly ride again tomorrow and I hope to see more of the beautiful country."

Emma beamed. "Oh, it's beautiful miss, very beautiful indeed! There are some excellent places to go horse riding, or so Felton tells me. You must surely ask him about the paths to take, he knows them all. Exercises the horses regularly, he does."

Lucy froze for a moment. "Felton. The head groom?"

"Oh yes, miss! He's excellent at his job, been here for almost five years now. The previous tenants didn't keep very many horses miss, but Felton is pleased that you have so many, he loves horses very much. I watch him exercising them in the grounds sometimes, miss, they like him as well."

Lucy wondered if she should admonish the maid for watching the grooms when she should be working, but decided that such unpleasant activities were best left to Caroline and Louisa. Perhaps Emma liked Felton a little more than was appropriate… then again, the maid seemed to speak of everything and everyone with the same level of excitement.

"Yes, Felton takes good care of the horses," Lucy admitted and then bit her lip thoughtfully. "He speaks very well, does he not? Had I met him elsewhere, I would certainly have thought him an educated gentleman."

Emma giggled excitedly while tugging on Lucy's hair. "Oh, miss, you're very observant! Felton has never spoken to anyone in the staff about his past, but there are rumors! I've heard it said that…" Emma paused, looking horrified. "But of course, miss, you mustn't tell anyone that I said anything!"

Lucy frowned up at Emma, but her curiosity was piqued. "I shall not."

"It's said, miss, that Andrew Felton is _actually _very high-born!" Emma whispered although they were alone in the room. "His father was born into a wealthy family, they say, and that he increased his fortune by investing in some sort of goods in India… silks, I believe. But this Mr. Felton contracted some horrible disease from that country and he was never quite right when he returned. Died when Felton was only nineteen, miss, that's what they say."

Lucy listened in disbelief. Surely this couldn't be true? "If so, should he not have inherited plenty of money? Even if he was a second or third son, circumstances should not have reduced an educated gentlemen so much as to have to work as a _groom._"

"Oh but they did, miss, they did indeed! You see, it's said that Felton was quite irresponsible at school and… well, that he did some terrible things, one of them involving…" Emma blushed. "Oh, but miss, I cannot say! I'm afraid this is far too inappropriate!"

Lucy turned and raised an eyebrow at Emma. "What nonsense. You started the story, you shall certainly finish it."

Emma looked pleased. "Well, they say that there was an incident… involving a _woman_, miss, and a-a child. Apparently Mr. Felton was so furious that he wrote Andrew Felton out of his will entirely and left him penniless. A friend of Mr. Felton's took pity on him and offered him work at Netherfield because he liked horses very much. And he's been here since then."

Lucy stared at Emma, wondering if she should believe this outrageous tale. It seemed a ludicrous way to explain a groom's polite manner of speech, and yet Lucy could not help but wonder if there was the slightest hint of truth in it. The fact that the tale was coming from a maid prone to gossip reduced it's credibility substantially. Lucy opened her mouth to speak but there was a knock on her door and her sister Louisa stepped inside.

"Goodness, Lucy, are you not ready? You must hurry, else we'll be late. Though I would much rather stay at home than mingle with this disagreeable society, I'm afraid our brother is quite adamant. You must be quick."

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As Caroline had predicted, the society at Hertfordshire could find nothing to speak of but the new tenants at Netherfield. All eyes turned to them as they entered the room and Lucy could only stand behind Caroline and hope that she would not be had made a number of acquaintances, and spoke to everyone amiably. Soon enough the dancing started, and Charles Bingley was enraptured by the number of beautiful girls there seemed to be in Hertfordshire. He immediately spotted one of the rumored beauties at the ball and obtained her hand for a dance, leaving his sisters to fend for themselves.

The norms of society worked very well in Lucy's favor that night. It was not appropriate for anyone to approach a lady without having been introduced; yet the only person who was capable of introducing anyone to her was Charles and he was busy dancing. Lucy slipped away from her sisters and sat in an inconspicuous corner. She reveled in the fact that while many people shot her curious glances, none of them could approach her without being inappropriate. Her seat was near a window and she pushed it open a little, allowing a faint breeze into the stuffy ballroom.

Her thoughts revolved around Felton, and the story which Emma had told her of his past. She could certainly believe that he was high-born; his manner of walking and his speech indicated that he was educated. Yet the idea that he had been involved in a scandal and written out of his inheritance… Lucy was unsure. He seemed polite and hard-working. But Felton was also uncommonly handsome; could some poor woman not have fallen trap to his polite speech and sharp features? It was difficult to ascertain whether Emma was telling the truth. Lucy did not know how long she sat there by the window, ignoring the ballroom and lost in her thoughts. The ball had neared its close and many people were beginning to leave. It wasn't until Lucy heard the loud voice of a middle-aged woman nearby that she looked up.

"What uncommon manners!" the woman whispered dramatically to her friend, unaware that Lucy could hear her. "She hasn't danced a single dance, nor spoken to a single person outside of her family! One would think she was unwell. But if she was unwell, then she should look pale and she does not. What brown skin she has!"

Lucy kept her gaze firmly out of the window, watching a carriage roll by in the street. Caroline had been right; the society in Hertfordshire was blunt and uncouth. Another woman responded. "Oh, but you mustn't blame her so, Mrs. Bennet. There is quite a shortage of men at the ball and she has been kind enough to allow her brother to dance all his dances with the ladies from our society."

"Dear me! As though Mr. Bingley needs his younger sister's permission to do what he wishes, such an agreeable young man! He could not take his eyes off my dear Jane. But this Miss Lucy Bingley… well, I am determined to declare her just as terrible as Mr. Darcy. What a proud man, to go about frowning at everyone and then insult Elizabeth! _Tolerable, _he called her, did you know?"

Lucy could not resist a small smile. Only Mr. Darcy was capable of putting a woman as terrible as this Mrs. Bennet in her place. She was pleased that he had rejected her daughter but the idea that Charles could be interested in another daughter disturbed her. Charles was far too sweet and trusting, a terrible judge of character. Lucy only hoped that this Jane did not have him fooled.

"But of course, she has no _need_ to seem agreeable in society, not when she has such a rather large fortune. Do you know how much Miss Lucy and Miss Bingley have? A dowry of twenty thousand pounds each, I am told! Certainly such an amount of money will attract plenty of suitors, despite Miss Lucy's unappealing features. If _my _daughters had even half such an amount, I am sure that we should never-"

Having reached her breaking point, Lucy stood up abruptly from the chair in which she was sitting. It made a loud scraping noise that startled Mrs. Bennet and her companion and they turned to look at her, wide-eyed. "Excuse me," Lucy muttered, giving them a sharp look before walking past them in search of her sisters. The society at Hertfordshire was not merely unpleasant, it was _atrocious. _

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"Good morning, Felton!" Lucy greeted politely as she approached the stables in the morning. Felton was outside, grooming one of the horses and he greeted her with his usual bow. His dark hair was far too long in the front and when he bowed, it obstructed his vision. Lucy could not resist a giggle and Felton smiled in embarrassment as he pushed his hair out of his face.

"Good morning, Miss Bingley. I did not receive word that you planned to ride this morning, else I should have had Duchess saddled and ready for you," he explained. "Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst asked for the carriage to be prepared for them earlier. I thought you had gone with them on their trip."

"I did not, I'm afraid," Lucy replied. She was acutely aware of the fact that Felton's dark brown eyes stared straight into hers as she spoke. It was uncommon for a servant to maintain such bold eye contact. "They have gone to visit the Misses Bennet and I did not wish to join them. I thought I would much rather ride."

Felton smiled at her, a glint of amusement in his eyes as he took a step toward the stables and called out for one of the stableboys. "Thomas! Thomas, bring Miss Bingley's horse out and saddle it! She wishes to ride." Felton paused and turned to Lucy. "Shall I have Mr. Bingley's horse saddled as well?"

"Oh, no. My brother is detained by business, I shall be riding alone." At Felton's curious look, Lucy cleared her throat. "I do not intend to go far; I will stay in Netherfield, of course. I merely wished to spend some time with Duchess before my sisters'return."

"I apologize once more that your horse is not ready, Miss Bingley," Felton said as he glanced at the stable boy that was leading Duchess out of her stall. The boy was having trouble coaxing the horse out and Lucy watched in amusement. "Thomas is new, and he has yet to learn how to handle the horses. Perhaps you would wish to rest indoors and I shall send word once Duchess is ready? I may have to saddle her myself."

Lucy shook her head. "I would not dream of it, Felton. I am in no hurry at all and I would much rather wait outdoors. Do not have Thomas hurry on my account. It is my fault for not sending word of my plans to ride."

"That's very kind of you, Miss Bingley. Will you at least move into the shade?" he gestured towards one of the large trees just behind the stables that afforded a large shadow. "Surely you would not wish the sun to tire you, it is very bright today."

Lucy smiled to herself. "The sun is not enough to tire me at all, though I suppose it will make my skin brown. Apparently in Hertfordshire, young women are not considered to be appealing unless they are sickly and pale." She paused in her words, wondering if she was speaking to herself or to Felton. The head groom's gaze was still fixed on her and she wondered what had caused the words to come out of her mouth. Felton was looking at her oddly.

"I must disagree, Miss Bingley. Beauty of the skin does not depend upon the color but rather the texture and complexion. The latter two can only be gained by eating well and exercising regularly, as you do yourself. I see nothing in your skin to provoke any censure."

Lucy stared at Felton, wide-eyed. She found it difficult to comprehend that he was, in fact, complimenting her skin; yet he did it in such a polite manner that she could not be certain that he was doing it. Lucy paused silently for a few moments, before looking up at him. "You do not speak like a servant, Felton. Anyone listening to your words would most surely think you a gentleman."

Felton bowed, looking ashamed. "I did not mean to address you quite so inappropriately. I shall be certain to remember my station and I apologize if my comments caused any offense."

"No, Felton, I was not referring to your manner of addressing me, only your manner of speaking in general. You sound much more educated than a groom need necessarily sound," Lucy replied, wondering if he would explain himself. Perhaps then she could determine if Emma's story was true. "_Are _you educated?"

Felton's eyes diverted from hers and he looked at the ground, for the first time addressing her without holding her gaze. "I have been more fortunate than many of the servants at Netherfield, Miss Bingley. But you will excuse me, I must ensure that Thomas has saddled your horse properly."

Felton quickly walked away and joined Thomas, helping him to adjust the saddle that had been placed on Duchess. When the horse was finally ready, Felton did not move forward to help Lucy into her saddle. Instead he stood back and allowed Thomas to do it; the boy fumbled a little and Lucy had to grasp onto Duchess tightly so she would not fall.

"Thank you, Thomas," she told the boy who blushed with pleasure at hearing his name. Lucy then gave Felton one last look before leading Duchess away from the stables.

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	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

When Lucy Bingley walked down to the stables in the morning, she did so in the hopes of seeing Felton again. Part of the allure that the stables held for her was in the form of the intriguing head groom. She thought about him more than she ought to. Lucy knew that it was silly to look forward to those few moments of conversation with him. But Felton was certainly handsome in his own way, and since when had it been wrong to simply admire a good-looking man discreetly?

Felton was not outside the stables as he normally was. Lucy stepped inside to the horses' stalls. Duchess shifted eagerly at the sight of her, and Lucy stroked the horse before calling out. "Felton? Felton, are you here?"

"Miss Bingley?" The voice that spoke was not Felton, but Thomas the stable boy. He emerged from one of the stalls, carrying a grooming brush in one hand. He dipped into a low bow at the sight of Lucy and spoke in a trembling voice. "M-my apologies, Miss Bingley, Felton isn't here this morning. S-shall I have Duchess saddled for you?"

Lucy smiled at Thomas. He was very sweet; the boy was new to Netherfield and had quietly admitted to Lucy that he had never spoken to people so far above his station before. Thomas was terrified of giving offense to his masters and hence said as little as possible. "Yes, Thomas, if you wouldn't mind saddling her. May I ask where Felton is?"

Thomas moved to open Duchess' stall and bowed to Lucy once more, quite unnecessarily. Lucy wondered if the poor boy would put his back out bowing every few seconds in her presence. "Felton isn't well, Miss Bingley. He'll be down by the afternoon."

"Oh dear. What is the matter?" Lucy asked. Thomas brought Duchess carefully out of her stall and then bowed once more. Lucy wasn't certain if he was bowing to her, or the horse. "Has a doctor seen him?"

Thomas shook his head. "Just a bit o' sun stroke, Miss Bingley. He was out exercising the horses yesterday, and he fell off one. James and me, we half-carried him back. He wanted to work this morning, but I promised I would manage the stables."

"That's very considerate of you, Thomas. Are you certain that Felton does not need to see a doctor? It would be very little trouble to arrange one. I shouldn't have him falling off his horse again."

Thomas shrugged and then seemed to straighten up abruptly to make up for his slip. "Felton said he would be a' right, Miss Bingley. He only needed to cool down a bit. He's in his cottage at the moment. James said that he had to stay indoors."

Lucy raised an eyebrow. "Felton's cottage? Where is that?"

Thomas looked up. "Oh, it's here on the estate, Miss Bingley. Just down that lane, behind the clump of trees. Felton has been letting us eat lunch there in the summer, when it's too hot in the stables." He paused suddenly, wondering if he'd said too much. Felton had always told him to answer questions simply and curtly but Lucy was smiling.

"That's very kind of him," she said.

"It is, miss."

Lucy nodded, taking a seat on an upturned crate as Thomas saddled the horse. The first time she had done so he had gone running to bring a chair for her but Lucy had reassured him that it wasn't necessary. "Would you say that Felton is a good master, Thomas?" she asked curiously.

Thomas looked surprised. He bowed once more before nodding. "I think he is, Miss Bingley. He gets cross when we don't take good care of the horses, but as long as we do our work well, he's very kind to us. He's even been teaching James and me 'ow to read, when we get a bit 'o time."

Lucy raised an eyebrow. "Does he? That's very considerate of him. And who taught Felton how to read and speak, do you know?"

Thomas shifted uncomfortably. "Felton doesn't like to tell us about that, miss."

"But you must know something," Lucy prodded. She wondered if she was going too far with her questions, but Lucy was too curious to stop. Indeed, the well-spoken, educated head groom had been occupying much of her thoughts for some time. She wanted to see if she could substantiate Emma's story. "Has he spoken nothing of his past?"

Thomas shifted, looking unsure. He was contemplating whether he should answer the question; but he finally seemed to decide that to disobey Miss Bingley was far more dangerous than to speak of Felton, and so he nodded. "Only rumors, miss."

"Rumors," Lucy replied. "That his father was very rich and wrote Felton out of his inheritance because of a scandal, is that correct?"

"Scandal? Oh no, Miss Bingley, that's not what I've heard at all. Some 'o the other stableboys said that his father was a poor groom but Felton's mother was a highborn lady and she ran from home to marry him. It was Felton's mother that taught him to speak and read, Miss Bingley, but they never had much money, them."

Lucy stared for a moment. How could there be two completely different stories about someone's past? Although the idea that Felton's mother was a highborn lady who had married for love was a much nicer explanation than him being written out of his inheritance due to a scandal, it did not make it any truer.

"And who is this highborn lady who married a groom, do you know?"

"I don't know no names, miss," Thomas replied. He had finished saddling the horse and he bowed deeply once more. Lucy smiled t before allowing him to help her up onto the horse. Once she'd seated herself, she looked down at the stable boy. "Thank you, Thomas. I should be back in an hour or two."

Thomas bowed once more.

It did not take long for Lucy to find Felton's cottage. It was a tiny little thing and could not possibly have more than two rooms. She wondered why she had not noticed it before, but it was nestled behind a shady clump of trees and Lucy never rode in this direction. She slowed Duchess down as they approached it and within moments, the front door had opened. Lucy froze when Felton stepped outside.

"Miss Bingley," he greeted her with a smile. It was not his usual sparkling smile; his eyebrows were knitted together as though his head was pounding. Lucy flushed red at being caught outside his cottage. She had not meant for him to see her.

"Felton," she greeted, trying to hide her embarrassment. "I apologize; I had no intention of disturbing you. I had heard that you were not well and Thomas told me your cottage was here, so I..." she trailed off, unsure what to say next. Felton smiled at her again although he looked tired and his face was pale.

"Miss Bingley, you did not disturb me at all. I was on my way back to the stables. There is much to be done."

Lucy's eyes widened. "But you mustn't work! Felton, you look simply exhausted, you will only make yourself ill once more. My brother would be furious if he heard you were working to the point of exhaustion."

Felton laughed weakly. "I thank you for your concern, Miss Bingley. It is very kind of you but I believe Mr. Bingley would be more upset if his horses were not well taken care of. Thomas is a hard-working boy but he is not experienced enough to manage on his own."

"The horses will be fine if they are left alone for a day," Lucy replied firmly. She tightened her grip on Duchess' reins and steered her around. "I will be back in a few moments, Felton, I expect you to go back indoors and lie down. You may consider that an order."

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Felton went back indoors once Lucy had left, surprised at her actions. He was starting to believe that the rumors he had heard about her were entirely false. Most of Hertfordshire thought Lucy Bingley was a quiet, proud and arrogant girl who never spoke to anyone and thought herself above others. Her reputation almost matched Mr. Darcy's; although she had never spoken offensive words, her behavior was enough for people to take offense.

But Felton had never taken much stock in rumors. Lucy Bingley had proven herself to be a kind, sweet-natured girl who showed concern even towards her servants. Perhaps she did not speak much; but the pleasant pinkness in her cheeks showed that this was more out of shyness than arrogance. Felton wondered how society could be so mistaken about her.

"Are you lying down?" Lucy called out as she knocked on the door gently. Felton sat on his bed as she entered, wishing that he kept the cottage a little more clean. Lucy looked around with a smile on her face. It was small but delightfully cozy. She set down the pitcher she was carrying on a table covered in letters. "Felton, I asked you to lie down."

Felton stayed sitting and watched as Lucy poured some of the contents of the pitcher into a glass. Water droplets condensed around the outer surface, showing how cold the liquid was. He took the glass from her when she offered it to him. "What is this?"

"Only water," Lucy replied simply. "With a bit of lemon in it. I thought it would be good for you to drink something cold after you collapsed in the heat. Your cottage is extremely warm."

Felton nodded and sipped, finding that the cold liquid made his throat feel heavenly. He had been about to say something, but he forgot what it was. Lucy looked rather pleased with herself. "That made you feel better, did it not? This is why you should ask for help, Felton."

Felton looked up at Lucy's smiling face. He could see concern and relief in her eyes, as well as a tiny bit of smugness at having been right. Nobody had looked at Felton that way since he'd been a boy of 8 and had fallen in the river bank despite his mother's warnings. He had walked back to the house shivering in wet clothes and his mother had given him the very same look. "You look like my mother," he whispered.

Lucy was surprised, and she did not speak for a moment. Then she set the pitcher down and moved closer to the bed. There was a look of vulnerability in Felton's eyes as he realized what he had just spoken. "Your mother?" she asked hesitantly.

Felton nodded, standing up to replace the empty glass on the table. Lucy took it from him quickly and refilled it, her eyes watching him carefully. "Yes, I… she would give me the same look whenever I did not heed her advice and got myself into trouble. The last time I saw it on her face was when I was eight. I'd just fallen into the river and come home drenched and freezing."

Lucy wanted to laugh, but the expression on Felton's face prevented her. For a few moments, he looked like an eight-year old boy who had just lost his mother. She smiled kindly instead. "Was she very strict?" Lucy asked as Felton drained the second glass of cold water.

"Not at all. She would only tell me not to do something once. If I did not listen to her, I would have to learn the lesson the hard way. More often than not, I did. She was always right but she would never scold me. She would simply give me that look and I would know I had been a fool."

"You must miss her terribly."

"Whenever I do something wrong, I feel that had she been there, she might have warned me against it." Felton smiled sadly. "Perhaps she would have told me not to take the horses out in the sun yesterday and I would not be in this condition."

"_I _could have told you that," Lucy replied with a smile. "You work yourself too much, Felton. I don't think I've ever met anyone as hardworking as you. Your mother would have been proud."

Felton smiled wistfully. "I don't believe she would." He paused for a moment until he noticed a small bundle of rags in Lucy's hands. "What are those for?"

Lucy suddenly remembered the pieces of cloth and opened them to reveal small chunks of ice inside. "I had the cook get them from the ice cellar. She says that if you wrap them in a cloth and put them on your forehead, your body will cool down and you'll feel better. You will have to lie down."

"Miss Bingley, you've done enough, you needn't-"

"Felton, lie down," Lucy told him firmly before smiling. "I'm afraid you will have to indulge me. I fancied myself as a nurse when I was younger, but Caroline and Louisa would never let me near them when they were ill. They always sent for a proper doctor and he would shoo me away."

Felton smiled and lay down on the bed as Lucy adjusted the pillows for him. "Most young girls fancy themselves as princesses."

"I fancied myself as a number of things," Lucy admitted as she gently placed the damp cloth filled with ice on Felton's forehead. He closed his eyes in pleasure. "There was a time after I first received Duchess that I imagined her to be a unicorn and myself a princess. If you must know, I tried to tape a paper cone to her face until Charles stopped me."

Felton chuckled, his eyes still closed. Lucy gently brushed a few strands of hair away from his forehead. "Perhaps we were both foolish as children, then. I wanted to be a soldier at one point. I fancied myself riding into glorious battle on horseback but those dreams were shattered."

"Why?" Lucy asked curiously.

"Perhaps for the same reasons you could never be a nurse and Duchess could never be a unicorn."

"I could never be a nurse because nurses don't come with dowries of twenty thousand pounds," Lucy mumbled to herself. She would never have said this to anyone else, but with Felton, it did not matter. "I would have made a dreadful nurse. My father would tell Charles stories about war and they always terrified me. Caroline was right in saying the closest I would ever come to being a nurse was being a mother."

Felton opened his eyes slowly and looked up at her. Her fingers were resting gently above the cloth on his forehead and she was looking down at him with thoughtful gaze. Felton briefly wondered what such a beautiful woman was doing here, in his cottage, nursing him back to health and sharing her dreams. "I think you will make an excellent mother, Miss Bingley."

Lucy laughed. "Oh, Felton, you needn't say things like that! I don't mind, you know. I can't stand children. It's a terrible thing for a woman to say, but they're absolutely dreadful. I never quite know how to manage them."

"Perhaps it will be different when the child is your own."

"Perhaps."

There was a small pause before Lucy moved away. "I shall leave you to rest now. You won't go to the stables unless you're feeling completely well, will you? If you do not get better by tomorrow then I shall ask Charles to send a doctor."

"That's very kind of you, Miss Bingley, but there is no need. I am feeling well already."

Lucy smiled and said goodbye before exiting Felton's cottage and closing the door behind her softly.

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	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

"I heard that a guest was coming to dine with you and your sisters today," Felton said as he stroked Duchess' nose. He turned to look at Lucy through the hair that fell into his eyes. "I thought perhaps you would choose to keep their company."

Lucy shook her head. Felton's gaze was piercing into hers and she tore her eyes away from his dark green ones. "I would hardly choose Caroline, Louisa and a Bennett girl over a day exploring the fields," Lucy replied with a smile. "And it was I who asked you to make time for me today; it would have been rude of me not to make our engagement."

Felton smiled. "I'm afraid such rules of propriety apply with gentle society, Miss Bingley, not with servants."

"Well, you behave like a gentleman so I feel inclined to treat you as one. I would rather not dine with my sisters and Miss Bennet. It is too painful for me to remember which of the Bennett sisters are admired in my household and which are detested."

"Is it so? I'm surprised you cannot tell one Bennet from another," Felton laughed. "But perhaps we had better get on, it seems as though it may rain this evening. May I?"

Lucy nodded and allowed Felton to help her up onto Duchess. His fingers were rough as he handed her the reins and she flushed red. Lucy watched him, amazed at the fluidity with which he mounted his own horse. Once he was comfortable, he turned and gave her a cheeky smile. "Ready, Miss Bingley?"

"Of course."

They rode through the countryside, and Lucy listened in awe as Felton described each and every field and hill in detail. He spoke about it with such passion and love that Lucy could not tear her eyes away from him. She did not say a word; she merely listened as he talked, and watched as his eyes shone with excitement.

"There is a small stream behind here," Felton explained, leading his horse through a grove of trees. Lucy was disappointed when the path was too narrow for them to ride side by side; she had quite enjoyed sneaking glances at him when he was too absorbed with the nature to notice. Reluctantly, she manoeuvred Duchess so she could fit through the gap behind Felton and his horse. They walked a few steps until Felton dismounted and walked back towards Lucy to help her dismount as well. She blushed when she stumbled and her hand landed on his shoulder for support. She had hardly noticed how strong his shoulders were.

"Are you well, Miss Bingley?" Felton asked her kindly, as she straightened up. The ground was covered in leaves and knobbly roots sticking up out of the earth. Lucy felt a burst of irritation.

"Miss Bingley is my sister," she replied suddenly. "You must call me Lucy."

Felton looked at her for a long moment. His green eyes stared into hers for so long that her cheeks flushed red and she wondered whether she ought to have kept silent. Was it so wrong to ask someone to refer to her by her name? She suddenly realized the implications of her words and the warmth of his rough hand in hers, which he had used to help her land on her feet. She waited silently and wondered what he would say.

"Miss Lucy," he said finally, the corner of his mouth turning up in a slightly boyish grin. His grip on her fingers loosened until his warm hand fell away from hers, and he turned around. "I hope you don't mind a bit of a walk, Miss Lucy. The horses will have a difficult time manoeuvring through the trees."

Lucy nodded and followed Felton further into the wood. Although she did wonder later, it never occurred to her in that moment that she was following a servant, a man she had known for a little over a fortnight, alone into an unknown wood. All she could think about was whether the heat in her cheeks had faded and if Felton had noticed their colour.

"I thought you might like this," he said with a smile as they reached a small, rocky stream that broke the line of trees. It was narrow; Lucy thought that if she lifted her skirts, she could easily leap over it. But the sight of the flowing crystal water and the small gurgling noises it made was very calming. "Would you like to sit?"

Lucy looked at Felton and nodded, smiling. He took her hand and helped her over to a large tree root where they both sat facing the stream. "This is beautiful," Lucy said with a smile. "How did you find it?"

Felton's smile dropped, and he lifted a hand to brush his hair out of his eyes. Lucy felt the sudden urge to move closer and do it for him. He turned and looked at her. "I found it soon after I first started to work at Netherfield. I was… I was grieving my father's death and I would often ride out on one of the horses in the evenings to calm myself," he replied quietly.

"I'm sorry," Lucy whispered. It was the first time that Felton had mentioned his father and she felt a sudden burst of curiosity. But the look on his face showed that he had loved his father very much and she did not dare ask any more. She began hesitantly. "My father passed away as well. I was fifteen years old, when he died. We had a home out in the country but my sisters and Charles decided that we had better move to London. My father taught me to ride."

Felton smiled a little. "As did mine. You must have missed the country while you were in London."

"Terribly. There was no horse riding, no proper fields…. I wonder how I ever survived among those stone walls." She turned and saw Felton smirking at her. "Of course, it wasn't _all_bad. I did enjoy dancing at the occasional ball. Dancing can be fun, but it was painful to find a partner. I would have to wait until my brother Charles was unoccupied or accept the occasional dance of pity with Mr. Darcy."

Felton reached down to the ground and plucked at a twig. "You cannot mean to say that none of the gentlemen ever asked for your hand."

"No… I suppose not. But I can truly say that no man has ever asked for my hand a second time."

Felton laughed. "Are you such a terrible dancer, Miss Lucy?"

Lucy wondered whether she should feel insulted, but the spark in Felton's eyes showed that he was only being mischievous. Nobody had ever spoken to her in such an informal way; even her brother did not tease her so and Lucy flushed red again. "Perhaps I am. Although, it is more likely due to my lack of polite conversation. You see, I could never find anything to say to any of those men."

"There are plenty of things to say," Felton replied. "You could have started by telling them your dowry, surely that would have prompted them to ask for a second dance!"

Lucy laughed. There was something beautiful about the way everything he said was a surprise; it was not the same, routine dialogues that were spoken by all the other gentlemen she met. Perhaps she should have told Felton off for being so audacious, but she found that she could not. "I do not think that I should have wanted a second dance with such a man! I believe deep down, every woman wishes for a man who will marry her regardless of her fortune."

"And yet almost every woman wishes for a man with a fortune. Perhaps a man may marry you without knowing of your dowry, Miss Lucy, but should _you_ ever marry a pauper?"

Lucy was silent for a moment. "My family should be rather disappointed."

"I asked if _you_would ever marry a pauper."

"If he was a hard-working man and he loved me then yes, I should. But I should never find such a man. Any pauper who wished to marry me would be doing so in hopes of obtaining my fortune."

Felton shook his head, his hair falling further into his face. The corners of his mouth were still turned up and he shifted on the tree root so he could face Lucy completely. "I think what you mean to say, Miss Lucy, is that even if a man with no fortune should profess his love for you, you would never believe his love to be true. You would forever doubt it."

"I think I should know if a man truly loved me."

Felton smiled. "You have never been in love, Miss Lucy. I'm afraid it is not so simple."

"I see. You speak as quite the expert on such matters. Have you ever been in love?"

Felton was silent. He turned his gaze away from Lucy and smiled as he saw something in the distance. Slowly and carefully, he pointed towards a tree a few feet away from them. "I see the squirrels have noticed that we are here. Do you see that one, Miss Lucy?"

Lucy turned and spotted the small squirrel at the root of the tree, watching them on its hind legs warily. It was an adorable little thing. Lucy smiled. "Oh, it's so young! Do you think it would run away if I tried to move closer to it? I simply must see it better."

"There's an easier way." Felton reached into his coat and pulled out a handful of nuts. He gave one to Lucy and showed her how to hold it in her outstretched hand and stay very still. "Don't move. She may take some time."

Lucy waited patiently, aware of Felton's face hovering very close to her shoulder. She tried her best not to move and soon enough, the small squirrel began to inch closer to them. Lucy watched as it sprinted the last few steps, hurriedly grabbed the nut from Lucy's fingers and ran all the way back to the tree to sit and nibble on it. "That was wonderful! They are almost tame!"

"They are. They usually stay for a while longer, but I think they were not used to your presence."

"May I try again?"

Felton laughed and Lucy blushed as she realized how childish she sounded. But he was standing up from the root and holding out a hand to help her up. "Perhaps another day, Miss Lucy. I'm afraid that it is going to rain very soon and I would not have you getting wet and falling ill."

"I have never fallen ill from being out in the rain; but I suppose it would not do for my sisters to see me wet. Thank you for sharing this place with me, Felton."

Felton smiled. "It was my pleasure."

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**(Present)**

Jane and Elizabeth both stared at Miss Lucy as she paused. They could not believe that the reserved and antisocial sister of Mr. Charles Bingley could have been roaming the fields of Hertfordshire with Netherfield's head groom. Who would have thought her capable of something quite so scandalous? Jane felt a surge of compassion for the girl. Although her story had not quite been finished, she could imagine what had happened next.

"You fell in love with him," said Jane quietly. "That horrible groom saw your innocence and he chose to prey on it. Oh, that such people exist in the world!"

Elizabeth nodded. Her wariness of Miss Lucy Bingley had been replaced with an odd sense of pity. After all, how different was she from girls like Georgiana and Lydia who had been manipulated by scheming men? No doubt the groom had seen his chance of a rich and innocent young girl and taken it. "Miss Lucy, I pray you will not feel ashamed," Elizabeth said, reaching out to take Lucy's hand. "Any man who would take advantage of you and take you into the middle of the woods alone is vile and –"

Lucy removed her hand from Elizabeth's sharply. Her eyes were red and tears were beginning to brim in them. She shook her head. "I thank you for your concern, but I wish you would listen to the rest of the story before you pronounce judgment on either myself or Felton. For I am not as innocent as you may believe…."

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	6. Chapter 5

**A/N – So I owe my readers a major apology and explanation. **

**I'm so sorry that I haven't updated in forever. I have no excuses except that I got sick of this story and didn't feel like working on it. I now forced myself to get back to it and have edited all the previous chapters, which was why you got a notice that the story was updated. I would suggest that you go back and read them, Chapter 3, at least, because there are some new scenes. **

**Once again, I'm so sorry that I'm taking so long with updates and I hope you're all enjoying the story. **

**Chapter 5**

When Lucy came downstairs, she found that there was an animated conversation taking place in the sitting room. She had managed to escape the worst of the rain with Felton earlier, but Miss Jane Bennet had not been so lucky.

"Miss Bennet, I absolutely insist," Charles was saying. "You are in no condition to be moved at all, much less travel all the way till Longbourne. We will send word to your family as soon as we can, but you must stay here until your health improves. I will send for a doctor at once."

Lucy frowned at Miss Bennet, who was sitting wrapped up in blankets and looking decidedly ill. Her delicate frame was shivering and her face was as white as a ghost. No wonder Mrs. Bennet thought Lucy to be coarse and brown, if this was what a little rain did to her frail daughters. "Mr. Bingley, that's very kind of you, but I do not wish to impose upon-"

"Oh! Impose!" Caroline cried. "Look how sickly the poor girl is and still she thinks of us. You mustn't worry about imposing upon us at all, dear, at least not until you are better. I have asked the maid to prepare a room for you already. There is no doubt of your staying."

"That is… that is very kind," Jane whispered. Louisa smiled at her and helped her wrap the blankets more tightly around herself.

Lucy turned away, disinterested. Her siblings were perfectly capable of playing the wonderful hosts; Lucy's presence was not required there. She was certain that despite Caroline's flowery words, her sister was wondering how foolish this Jane Bennet must be to ride all the way here in the rain on horseback. Surely she would express her views later, when the woman in question was not in the room.

Mr. Darcy was sitting alone on the other side of the parlor, reading a book and occasionally lifting his eyes to watch Lucy's siblings fawn over Jane Bennet. Deciding that his company seemed far more pleasurable, Lucy picked up a book of her own and took a seat near him.

"Good evening, Mr. Darcy. May I join you?"

"You certainly may," Mr. Darcy replied. "Did you have a nice ride this afternoon? I see you did not get caught in the rain as our unfortunate Miss Bennet did."

"No, I did not. Felton ensured I was back indoors before the worst of the rain started. Had it not been for him, I might have gotten just as wet as Miss Bennet; though perhaps not as ill."

Mr. Darcy's lip curled. "Well, yes. It was quite clear that it was going to rain; I wonder Miss Bennet did not notice the clouds. I suppose it was lucky that you had Felton with you."

"Indeed. He is very clever." Lucy shifted in her seat slightly, wondering if it was appropriate to broach the subject with Mr. Darcy. But her curiosity was too far gone to allow her to stop. "And he makes for very pleasant conversation. Once would almost think he was educated, is that not odd?"

Mr. Darcy had been watching as Charles hurried out of the room to call for a doctor, but he turned to look at Lucy as she finished her question. "It is odd indeed. I remember the man who showed your brother Netherfield saying something about Andrew Felton. Some scandal, though I cannot remember what it was."

Lucy sat up straight. So was the story about his getting a woman with child true, then? "Can't you remember anything, Mr. Darcy?"

"Not with clarity. But yes, I believe he was cheated out of a large inheritance by some member of his family. A brother, perhaps? No, it was an uncle. Anyway, the man was all praise for Felton, saying that he had dealt with all the misfortunes of his life admirably well."

"Oh. That is rather inspiring."

Mr. Darcy nodded. A maid had arrived and was helping Miss Bennet upstairs to the rooms that had been prepared for her. Caroline called for Lucy to help and she was forced to take her leave of Mr. Darcy, regretting that she could not obtain more information from him.

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"Is that Miss Bennet's horse?" Lucy asked curiously, noticing the new addition to the stables. Felton nodded as he dragged a heavy pail into the stall. His arms flexed from the weight and Lucy found the sight momentarily distracting. She forced herself to look away and into his eyes.

"Yes, it is," Felton replied, straightening up once he set the pail down. "She was quite soaked through, yesterday. I wonder that people don't consider their horses' well-being before they set off into the pouring rain."

Lucy gave him a sad smile. "I apologize if this has caused extra work for you, Felton. I know you work hard enough and now you must take care of an extra horse until Miss Bennet recovers. I suppose it's just as well that Miss _Elizabeth _Bennet chose to walk over here in the morning rather than bring another horse."

Felton looked up, amused. "Did she, now? I can't imagine what an uproar that must have caused; the roads are caked with mud from the rain. But it surprises me that you worry about my workload, Miss Lucy. I'll have you know that I get paid good money for what I do, and I enjoy it."

"Do you?" Lucy asked thoughtfully.

"Enjoy it?"

"Get paid good money."

Felton paused in reaching for a brush and smiled at her. "Perhaps not by your standards, Miss Lucy. But your brother is generous and I earn enough to support myself. I've never had to worry about money since I came to Netherfield."

Lucy frowned, tired of his cryptic answers. She wondered if she would ever find out what kind of a life Felton led before he became a groom, and whether or not he truly had a large inheritance as so many rumors suggested. "And before you came to Netherfield? Did you ever struggle before then?"

"I've been luckier than most."

"Yes, you've said that before," Lucy muttered, sounding irritated. "But what does it _mean_?"

"Perhaps it means that you have more important things to do than pry into my past. It is almost lunchtime. Should you not be returning indoors?" Felton asked lightly.

Lucy stood from the upturned crate she had been sitting on and gave Felton a determined look. "I shall find out your secrets one day, Andrew Felton. You cannot keep them from me forever!"

Felton laughed. "And I wish you good luck with that."

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Lucy spent much of her evening sitting downstairs with her family and Mr. Darcy, listening to her sisters abuse Miss Elizabeth. The topic gave her little pleasure; Elizabeth Bennet was not the first woman that the elder Bingley sisters spoke of in this manner and she would not be the last.

Instead, Lucy sat quietly in a corner, holding a book in front of her. But she had no idea what she was reading, for she was looking out of the window and watching Felton and Thomas close the stables for the night. Their figures were somewhat shadowy in the dark but Felton looked up and made eye contact with Lucy through the window. He waved at her with a smile and Lucy, blushing, waved back.

"Lucy, what are you doing?" Caroline asked sharply. She was in a terrible mood and she frowned down at her sister. "Don't gaze out of the window with that dreamy expression, you look rather foolish."

"I apologize," Lucy muttered, while Charles gave her a kind smile.

"It's all right, Caroline. I suppose she must be missing Duchess. That window looks out onto the stables, you know," Charles explained.

"And what is there to miss?" Caroline demanded. "Charles, your youngest sister spends her entire day with those horses in those disgusting stables. She never interacts with society- not that the society in Hertfordshire is particularly worth interacting with, but it is decidedly better than spending her days with those animals! Are you not concerned for her well-being?"

Charles smiled weakly. "You must admit, Caroline, she seems much happier than she ever did in London. And the riding can only be good for her health-"

"Health? Look at how brown and coarse she has become! How will we ever take her back to the city for the season? You are ruining your sister's prospects, Charles. Imagine when someone asks of her accomplishments and all we can say of her is that she is a good horsewoman! What shame! Very soon she shall have nothing to recommend her over the likes of Elizabeth Bennet but her fortune!"

Anger bubbled up inside of Lucy. Glaring at her sister, she dropped her book onto a nearby table and stood up. "Excuse me," she mumbled, hurrying out of the room before she said something that she could not take back.

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When Felton opened the door to his cottage later that evening, he did not expect to see Miss Lucy Bingley, wrapped up in a cloak and shaking. Thinking that she must be shivering from cold, he quickly opened the door and ushered her inside.

"Miss Lucy! Are you well? Is everything all right?"

Lucy frowned and shook her head. Her body was trembling; whether from cold or rage she did not know. She looked up at Felton and saw worry reflected in his dark brown eyes. Lucy wasn't sure whether to feel angry or comforted. How was it that a groom seemed to care more for her than her own family? "I-I am fine," she whispered. "I simply… I simply couldn't stay in the house any longer but it was so cold outside that I-"

"You mustn't stand in the doorway," Felton replied, taking Lucy by the arm and leading her further into the small cottage before closing the front door and shutting out the draft. There was a small fireplace in the next room and Lucy stood and watched Felton as he hurried to light it. She removed the cloak from around her shoulders slowly.

"It may take a few minutes to warm up," Felton said apologetically as he got the fire started. Stepping away from it, he turned and took the cloak from Lucy. "Miss Lucy, you are shaking terribly. May I?"

Lucy nodded though she did not know what he was asking permission for. Before she could respond, Felton wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly to control her shivering. Lucy sank into his warmth and tight embrace. She pressed her face into his shoulder and inhaled the smell of fresh hay while trying to hold in her tears. Her mind raced as she wondered whether what they were doing was appropriate. But what did it matter, when it made her feel so good?

"Do you feel better?" Felton asked slowly, once she had stopped shaking in his arms. He was reluctant to let her go; she had fit so perfectly into him. But she lifted her head from his shoulders and looked up, green eyes nodding miserably. "Miss Lucy?"

"I-I'm sorry," she whispered. "I do not know why I came here, I just… My sister was saying all these terrible things and I became so _angry_, I…"

"It is all right," Felton assured her calmly. Keeping an arm around her shoulders, he led her closer to the fire and pulled a pair of stools toward them so that they could sit. She sat but stayed close to him; it was no longer about the warmth, Lucy simply wanted to be near him. She could feel his fingers on her bare arm and hoped that he would keep them there. "What did your sister say?"

"She was wrong," Lucy whispered. "I love Duchess, but that's not why I come down to the stables every day. I come down to the stables to see _you. _I can spend the entire day watching you work and not feel bored. Out of all the men I have ever met, Felton, none of them has ever inspired such feelings in me and I know that you must hold me in a similar regard because I see they way you smile and look at me. I wanted to speak to you tonight, because I-"

"Please," Felton muttered. Lucy paused and looked up at him; his eyes were inches away from hers and full of pain. "Please, Lucy, stop. Say nothing more."

"What?"

"Once you say these words, they cannot be unsaid," he replied. He turned his brown eyes away from her, unable to hold her gaze. "I will escort you back to your home. Perhaps it is better if we forgot that you came here tonight-"

'I do not wish to forget!" Lucy replied angrily. "You may stop me from saying these words but that cannot change how I feel! I came here because I know that you care about me, that you love me-"

"What we _feel _does not matter!" Felton's tone was sharp. "If someone gained knowledge of your coming here, if your siblings found out about-"

"I never took you for a coward, Felton," Lucy retorted.

"I am not a coward. I am trying to be prudent, trying to prevent you from making a mistake that could ruin your life, Lucy! If you think I fear for myself, then you are wrong. I have nothing left to lose. I am trying to prevent the dangerous consequences of your childish and thoughtless behavior. Please, leave. Do not test my self-control, it is weak."

Lucy felt tears brimming in her eyes. "If you believe that what you are doing is for my benefit, then you are wrong. Felton, please don't ask me to leave. I am not a child. I know the consequences of what I am doing; I have come here irrespective of them."

Felton closed his eyes. "Miss Lucy, _please. _I do not know what you hope to achieve by speaking those words aloud, but I assure you that nothing good can come of it. Allow me to silence this matter between us forever."

Lucy was silent for a long while, tears escaping from her eyes. She looked at the pain on Felton's face and felt her heart break. He was only trying to protect her. Why could he not understand it was not his protection she needed, but his affections? He looked up at her with torn brown eyes, pleading her to go before his resolve broke. "I will leave," Lucy whispered. "Is that what you truly want? For me to leave?"

"Things have gone too far. We have no other option."

Lucy nodded, her feeling her throat choke up. "Will you not say it once before I go? Felton, please. You have asked me to remain silent, now I am asking you to speak."

Felton stepped forward and took her hand in his, closing his eyes. "Lucy, I love you. And I would be a poor lover indeed if I attempted to steal you away for myself, knowing that I cannot provide you with what you deserve. I am not the right man for you, Lucy. Now you must go. Please, leave."

And with that, Felton closed the door and broke Lucy's heart in one swift move.

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	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

"Lucy, unwell?" Caroline asked in surprise. She frowned at the maid. "Good heavens, what can you mean? My younger sister has not fallen ill once since the day she was born. Mother always said she had the constitution of an ox. You cannot be telling the truth."

The maid bowed. "Miss Lucy wished me to tell you that she was not feeling well enough to come to breakfast. She did not wish for food to be brought to her room either."

Louisa looked equally startled. "This is quite unexpected. Do you think she could have caught the fever from Miss Jane Bennet, Caroline? What a terrible thing- to extend our hospitality to Miss Bennet and have our own sister catch the illness from her!"

"Do not be silly, Louisa," reprimanded Caroline. "Lucy has not been anywhere near Miss Bennet. If her own sister, who has sat beside her day and night has not caught the illness, then why should our dear Lucy? It must be something else."

There was a short pause at the breakfast table, following which Charles set down his knife and fork and stood up. He received surprised looks from both of his sisters. "Charles, you have not eaten!"

"I think I will go see Lucy and ask after her health. Sitting here and musing about what could be wrong with her will neither give us answers nor help her in any manner. I will only be a few minutes," he replied. He paused and turned back to look at Caroline. "Although, I have a strong feeling that her illness is not one of the body .She was terribly hurt by what you said to her last evening, Caroline. I hope you know this."

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To the astonishment of the entire family, the Bingleys found themselves with not one, but two bed-ridden young women in the house. When Lucy refused to speak of what was ailing her, the doctor was summoned. He could not find anything wrong on initial examination, but upon being told that she was a horsewoman, determined that it must simply be exhaustion and recommended she stay in bed for as long as required. This diagnosis suited everyone very well- and so it was settled.

Caroline and Louisa sat with Lucy every evening- more out of their need to gossip about the Bennet family than any concern for Lucy's health. She quietly sat and listened to them abuse Mrs. Bennet and her daughters while she stared out of the window and watched Felton and Thomas exercise the horses. It was painful; sometimes when Felton was calling across the field to one of the other stable boys, his strong, familiar voice would carry up to her window and she would feel a pang in her heart.

"Lucy? Are you even listening to what we are saying?" Caroline asked. "Good heavens, dear, you look far too ill. That doctor is a fool; there must be something wrong with you besides mere exhaustion."

"I am well, Caroline," Lucy told her softly. "I am merely feeling out of spirits. Do continue telling me what Mrs. Bennet said to you when she came to visit today."

"Well, perhaps this will raise your spirits. Charles is determined to throw a ball here at Netherfield. Is that not delightful? It's a pity that he will have to invite the entire Bennet family and many of the other unbearable residents of this place, but I believe we may enjoy ourselves all the same. It will be an occasion for you to wear that beautiful blue silk we brought from London, do you remember?"

Lucy was saved from having to respond by a knock on the door. Emma, the maid, entered the room with a tray in her arms. "Pardon me, madam. It is time for Miss Lucy's dinner."

Louisa and Caroline both kissed Lucy on the cheek and told her to improve her health soon so she could enjoy the ball. Once they had left, Emma walked further in and set the tray on a table.

"I do not have an appetite today, Emma," Lucy mumbled.

"Oh, but Miss Lucy, you must eat! You have hardly eaten in days and everyone is so worried about your health!" Emma insisted. "Look, the cook has made a special chicken broth for you, she asked me to ensure that you ate it. And when I told Felton that you had been in bed for days, he was so terribly upset, that-"

Lucy turned sharply at the mention of Felton. "I will thank you not to discuss my personal matters with the grooms, Emma."

The maid's eyes widened. "Oh, I'm so terribly sorry, miss! I didn't think you would mind, see he _asked _me how you were, and I supposed it was because you haven't been down to the stables in days. And so I told him that you'd been feeling poorly since the other morning and since you were so terribly kind to him when he was unwell-"

"That's enough," Lucy cut her off. She could not bear to speak of Felton, especially not with the maid. She felt a sudden loathing towards Emma- an unreasonable dislike that stemmed from the fact that this foolish girl could speak to Felton and see him every day while Lucy could not. But she felt ashamed of herself as soon as she looked up and saw that Emma was nearly in tears. "I apologize, Emma, I did not mean to upset you. You've been taking wonderful care of me. I would prefer to eat alone, if you don't mind."

Emma nodded, looking a little more relieved and exited the room quickly. Lucy pushed the bedcovers off herself and walked over to the window. She could see Felton and Thomas carrying buckets back towards the stables. Thomas held one in each hand, while Felton carried one only with his left arm. Squinting and leaning closer, she could see that a white bandage was wrapped around his right hand. Worried, she followed the two figures with her eyes until they went into the stables and disappeared from sight.

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"Oh, Lucy, you simply must join me for a walk," Caroline declared. She had gone to great lengths to drag an unwilling Lucy out of bed. "Charles and Mr. Darcy have gone to invite the officers to our ball and Louisa is lying down. I am most dreadfully bored and you could do with the fresh air, you are becoming quite pale."

Lucy felt a sudden burst of irritation. _What happened to coarse and brown? _she wondered, but chose not to say anything. Lucy did not have the energy or inclination to resist Caroline so she followed her sister out into the gardens of Netherfield for an evening walk. The weather was pleasant and Lucy wanted desperately to ride Duchess. She had never enjoyed walking, but Caroline took no notice of her discomfort. She cheerfully spoke of the upcoming ball.

"I have decided to wear the peach-colored gown that I bought in London. Just a few weeks before we left for Hertfordshire, do you remember, Lucy? Of course, we shall have to wait until we go back to London for new dresses; I doubt we shall find an agreeable dressmaker anywhere in this county."

"Surely not," Lucy muttered. She could not even feign her usual interest in Caroline's words. What was the use of these dresses and balls, what ends did they serve? Perhaps Caroline would say that they gave one a greater chance of finding a good man, a good husband. The idea sickened Lucy. She had found a wonderful man already; the likes of which she would never find in any ball in all of England.

"You look so terribly dull, Lucy, you must keep up your spirits!" Caroline insisted. "Have you tried on that blue silk of yours, to ensure that it fits well? You have lost so much weight after coming here, with all the horse-riding and your exhaustion. We cannot have it hanging off you; you must try it as soon as we go back indoors and if it is loose, we will have it taken in."

Lucy nodded, but she was prevented a reply by the sight of Felton coming down the same pathway as them. Her throat caught; she had not been face-to-face with him since that dreadful night when he had rejected her and sent her away. Lucy's face burned with humiliation. Felton paused for a moment when he approached them, and bowed politely.

"Good day, Miss Bingley, Miss Lucy,"" he greeted.

Caroline smiled at him. "Good day, Felton. You have wonderful timing. I was just speaking of the ball with my sister. I trust you are making the necessary arrangements to receive our guests? We will have a great many carriages and horses being parked here."

"Of course. Mr. Bingley has yet to inform me of the exact number of guests. Once he does, the required arrangements will be made. I assure you that you needn't worry about it, Miss Bingley."

"That's very well. Thank you, Felton."

Lucy hardly heard what they said- she was too busy staring at Felton and how he was speaking politely to her sister. Had he not noticed her presence? Perhaps he did not care. Lucy felt foolish; surely he could not be as affected by her as she was by him. He couldn't have loved her. He only professed his feelings to save her dignity, to spare a young and silly girl of the embarrassment of having fallen for a man below her status that did not return her affections. She swallowed, feeling the beginnings of hot tears forming in her eyes.

"What happened to your hand?" Lucy blurted out quickly, without thinking. His right hand was still bandaged, and she could not prevent herself from wondering what had happened to him.

Felton turned to look at her for the first time, his dark eyes piercing into hers as they always did. He did not speak for a few moments; he merely looked at her, as though he was drinking in the sight of her. Lucy bit her lip, wishing she had not drawn attention to herself. Surely he would notice the glistening of tears in her eyes. Felton did not miss such details. "It was an incident in the stables, Miss Lucy," he replied calmly. "I scraped it on wood and it bled, but it is almost healed. May I- may I enquire after your own health? I had heard that you have been feeling unwell these past days."

Lucy could not reply. She was certain that if she opened her mouth she would burst into uncontrollable sobs and humiliate herself in front of both Felton and her sister. _Feeling unwell? S_he wanted to scream at him. _I have not been able to get out of bed because I cannot stop thinking about you!_

"It was merely exhaustion," Caroline answered for her after a long and uncomfortable pause. "She is feeling better now; I have determined to bring her into the fresh air. Good day, Felton."

Felton recognized his dismissal and bowed and walked away, his eyes never leaving Lucy's. She turned her head away from him and followed Caroline quickly, further down the path. Her sister watched her curiously. "Lucy, you look terribly ill. Is something wrong?"

Lucy shook her head. She felt a sudden disgust for her surroundings; for Netherfield, for Hertfordshire and for everything else in her life. Things had been much simpler in London. For then, surrounded by concrete roads and stuffy rooms, one was so far away from happiness that it was not even considered. But this; being so close to everything she wanted, yet so far away, was unbearable. Life was taunting her. Everything she wanted was being dangled in front of her face but she could not have it. Lucy was possessed with a sudden desire; to leave Hertfordshire. She wanted to run as far away from here as she could. "Everything is wrong," Lucy whispered miserably. "Caroline, I don't want to live here anymore. I cannot stand Hertfordshire."

Caroline looked at Lucy in bewilderment. "Good heavens, you must certainly be ill! Were you not so excited to come here, so happy that you would get your horses and your fields?"

Lucy bit her lip and looked down at the ground. "I was. But I feel so foolish, now. I thought… I expected something else, I can't…"

There was a long pause and Caroline watched her sister, smiling. "I believe you have finally come to your senses, dear Lucy. You are missing London most terribly and you cannot stand the pitiful society here. I will speak to Charles and Louisa; I believe we have stayed in this disagreeable place long enough, now we must return home."

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**A/N – Thank you so much for reviewing! I've got exams going on but I hope to update soon. I have this story all planned out in my head so I will definitely finish it, it just may not be as soon as I'd like.**


	8. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Lucy clutched folds of the blue silk between her fingers. The material was soft and smooth, and it caressed her hands as she stroked it. Such a dress should have inspired some excitement in her; despite having never enjoyed spending hours at the dressmakers', Lucy had fallen in love with this piece. She'd never felt more excited about a dress before. Now it all seemed so foolish.

"Don't clutch your gown like that, Lucy," Louisa muttered to her. They were standing near the entrance, smiling and greeting the guests who arrived at the ball. A number of officers had arrived, and Louisa had spent almost twenty minutes commenting about how the younger Bennet sisters had no shame; flirting openly with them and behaving like fools. Lucy watched them, wondering if she had ever felt as cheerful in her life as they looked. Probably not, she decided.

"May I sit down for a while, Louisa?" Lucy begged. "My legs do ache and I feel very tired."

"But all the guests haven't arrived yet," Louisa replied. "I know you, Lucy. Once I let you go you shall hide in a corner and never come out again. None of us shall be able to find you until the ball is over. But I suppose you shall go whether or not I let you."

Lucy made a pleading face. "Oh Louisa, I shan't disappear. Just for a few moments. I feel terribly tired."

Louisa was forced to accept and Lucy quickly pushed through the crowd and walked out to the front of the house. She could see Felton, Thomas and a few other servants standing near the pathway. They were helping guests out of their carriages and directing the carriage drivers to park their vehicles. Not wanting to run into them, she turned around and instead left from the back; leading out to the garden and the stables.

The night air was cool and it bit into Lucy's cheeks. She sat in the garden for some time, determined not to go back indoors and face all those people in the ballroom. Surely Caroline and Louisa would not be too angry. There were few people in that room who were truly worth interacting with, in their opinion. And Charles and Mr. Darcy would be far too busy with the Bennet family; that is all that any of them seemed to speak about. Lucy felt distaste for this family that took up so much of her siblings' time and attention.

Nearing the stables, Lucy decided to go inside. It had been so long since she had seen Duchess; she had been afraid of crossing paths with Felton. But now, surely, all the grooms were near the front of the house? Fairly confident that the stables were empty, Lucy carefully lifted her skirts and went in search of Duchess.

The horse neighed as soon as she saw her and Lucy abandoned her attempts to preserve her dress from the dirt. Tears sprang into her eyes and she put her arms around the beautiful horse, stroking her face and murmuring softly to her. She was in perfect condition; she looked as healthy as ever and her coat has been brushed and cleaned. Lucy moved closer to Duchess' warmth and mentally cursed Felton for being the reason she could not see her beloved horse. She had just removed her arms from around the horse's neck when she heard footsteps.

"Miss Lucy?" the voice called and Lucy stiffened. Suddenly feeling self-conscious, she straightened up and stepped away from the horse. She smoothed her dress down just as Felton entered the stables, approaching her slowly. He paused for a moment. "I see you came to see Duchess. She has missed you."

Lucy nodded. She hoped that he could not see her discomfort and tears in the dim light. "I have missed her as well," she replied, trying to sound calm.

"I hope… I hope you have not let what happened between us affect your coming down to the stables to see Duchess," he said softly. "If you wish, I can make myself scarce whenever you wish to see her. You need only inform Thomas."

Lucy did not know how to respond. She stared at him silently for a few moments and then managed to open her mouth. "That is kind, Felton, but unnecessary. Now if you'll excuse me, I should be returning to the ball. My sister will be looking for me and I must-"

He moved in front of the doorway before she could exit the stables. Lucy stared up at him, surprised that he was blocking her path. His brown eyes were watching her, torn. "Lucy, please. Please don't…"

"Leave?" Lucy asked sharply. "That's odd, the last time that we were alone, you could not wait to push me out of the door. Has something changed or are you merely incapable of making up your mind? Tell me why I should stay here and listen to you."

Felton looked down at her, pain evident in his face. "I only wanted to say that you look beautiful," he replied softly. "I saw you enter the stables and I had to follow you. When Emma told me that you had fallen ill, I was so worried. I could not see your face, I could not sleep without worrying about-"

"Stop," Lucy cut in. Tears had started to form in her eyes and she felt angry. "Do not say anything more. You have _no right _to do this. You sent me away, Felton. Now if you think that you can stop me and tell me I look beautiful and that you've been worried… It is unfair. You have broken my heart already; must you pierce me with every shattered piece?"

"I never wished to cause you pain," he whispered.

"You have. You have caused me more pain that I can bear," Lucy replied. "And what is worse is that you still believe you are relieving me of it."

He looked at her for a long moment, their eyes meeting. Felton raised a hand to her face and gently brushed her cheek with his thumb, catching a tear. Lucy closed her eyes to feel the warmth of his fingers on her skin but before she could feel it, he had jerked his hand away. "I apologize," he murmured, moving aside so the doorway was open. "I will not keep you."

He waited for her to leave, but Lucy refused to move. She stood still and stared at him, bewildered. "Why do you do this?" she demanded.

"I do not understand."

"Why do you struggle so much to push me away when you do not wish to? Why cannot you accept these feelings as I have done?" Lucy asked him. Feeling suddenly emboldened, she reached for his hand and placed it on her cheek, covering it with her own hand. "Why must you treat this as though it is something to be ashamed of?"

Felton looked at her, surprised. His fingers moved so they could cup her cheek and he lifted his other hand to her face as well. "I am not ashamed of my love for you," he whispered. "Only of myself. I have been selfish. I wanted you to love me, even though we could not be. I should have told you the entire truth that night in my cottage."

"What truth?" Lucy asked, worried.

"The truth that the man you think you love does not exist," Felton whispered. "You do not know all of me, Lucy. My past is a large part of who I am. I hid it from you because I knew that if I told you, you would not love me. I was selfish and I am sorry."

Lucy felt his rough fingers under hers and closed her eyes. "There is nothing wrong in wanting the person you love to love you in return."

"But this love must not be based on a lie."

"Then tell me the truth now so I can base my love on it and you may stop feeling ashamed."

They sat down, on a pair of wooden crates inside the stables. Felton kept his hand intertwined with hers, the rough pads on his fingers stroking her soft skin. Lucy gripping his hand tightly, afraid of letting him go. Now she would find out the truth that she had been longing to know.

"My father," Felton began slowly, "was a very rich man. He was not of a high social status but he had invested in trade in India when he was young, and he made a fortune. My mother was high-born. Her family did not approve of their marriage; my father had no name in society, so my mother eloped with him.

"I was their only son. My mother faced some complications after I was born and was told that she could never have any more children; so my parents loved and pampered me as much as they could their only son. My mother died when I was young and my father raised me alone. I grew up in a very sheltered manner; I knew little of the outside world. When I finally was sent to college, I… I was foolish. I involved myself with the wrong people. They would invite us to their rooms in the early hours of the morning and we would gamble and drink until we were barely conscious. We sinned in every possible manner."

Felton paused for a moment, looking down at Lucy to judge her reaction. She could feel her head spinning. Already, half of the rumors she had heard about Felton had proved to be true. She could not imagine it; the righteous, honorable Felton doing the things he spoke of. Chills went down her spine but she nodded for him to continue.

"One night, a friend of mine, he… he brought women to the party. I cannot honestly say that I remember what happened, I was far too drunk," Felton whispered. "But a few months later, a young woman came to the college and claimed to be carrying my child."

Lucy felt nauseous. _No. This cannot be true. _She yanked her fingers out of his grasp and covered her mouth. Part of her felt disgusted at the thought. How could someone be so foolish? She had always considered men who did the sort of things Felton did to be evil. Yet, looking into his eyes, she could see the ocean of pain, regret and shame in them. Taking a deep breath, she carefully returned her hand to his and pressed it. "Continue," she whispered.

Felton stared at her for a long moment. "I was terrified. My father had just been diagnosed with some tropical illness; it had been dormant since his time in India but he was in his final stage. I felt so ashamed that I could not tell him what I had done. I went to my uncle. He had always been kind to me, although he had not been as fortunate in his finances as my father. He promised to keep my secret and told me that I needed to take responsibility for the child.

"But he did not keep his promise. In due time, I found out that the child was not mine. A little girl was born almost a month earlier than she should have been and I knew then that the woman had lied. She cried and told me that the baby's father had been my friend. She came to _me_ as she knew I had the relative financial stability to look after it. I made arrangements so the friend would take responsibility for the child. I lent them money and I returned home to find my father on his death bed. He refused to see me. My uncle had told him everything about the child and my actions at college. I do not know exactly what he said; but my father died a few days later and I found that he had left the entire estate and fortune to my uncle. I was penniless."

"I'm so sorry," Lucy whispered. "Your uncle, he didn't…"

"He offered me a place to stay with him," Felton admitted. "But by then I was in too much grief and shock to accept. My father had been ashamed of me when he died and I could not stay in that house without feeling disgusted with myself. So I decided that I needed to earn on my own. I left college; there was no money to pay for it in either case, and I took a job here based on a recommendation by one of my father's servants."

Lucy pressed his hand gently. "As a groom?"

"I didn't see why not. The only person I ever wanted to make proud was my father. And he had died after hearing about the most shameful thing I had ever done in my life," Felton replied. "I had no reputation to uphold, nobody else left in my life. What did social status matter when there were none there to see it? I felt that I would be happy with the horses."

There was a long silence. Felton waited to see what she would say. Lucy's head was spinning with the story he had just told her, and she could not make sense of it all. Part of her felt disgusted at how Felton had once been. But looking at him now, she knew that this was not the same man who had made those mistakes. He had changed now, and she knew that she should not judge him for his past. "You are a good man, Felton," she whispered. "Perhaps you have made mistakes and you were not as honorable once as you are now, but that does not change how I feel towards you."

"My past does not disgust you? It would disturb any woman of moral character, I cannot believe that you can look past it so simply," Felton replied. He slowly withdrew his hand from hers. "Now, we must leave. I only wished to tell you this in the hope that it may lessen your pain. You shall have easy success in finding a man more virtuous than I."

"I shall never find such a man," Lucy replied heatedly. "Virtuous he may be, but he shall never be you. Perhaps I am shocked at hearing of your past; but it is nothing that I will not overcome in time. This is no reason for us to remain separate as we have done."

Felton shook his head sadly. "There is all the reason. Do you think I have not lain awake night after night wondering if there was a way we could love each other freely? There is none, Lucy. I am beneath you; in birth, in riches and in character. Your family would never consent."

"They needn't know," Lucy insisted. "We could meet in the stables at night, could we not? I see no reason why any of my siblings would find out if we-"

"You speak of an affair."

Lucy paused. "You make it sound so immoral."

"That is because it is." Felton's tone was sharp. "Lucy, I will not have you speaking of an affair. My love for you is the purest emotion I have ever felt. I will not cheapen or taint something so precious. It will only lead to pain. Perhaps we may meet for a few nights in the stables, but what shall happen when your siblings wish for you to be married?"

"They will never allow me to marry you," she whispered.

"I am aware. Lucy, I will not allow us to make the separation even more difficult when the time comes for you to marry another. We must make it now, when the pain is the least it can possibly be."

Tears stung Lucy's eyes. "Perhaps it is the least it can be; yet it is still unbearable."

Felton leaned forward and placed his hands on Lucy's cheeks before pressing a soft kiss on her forehead. She closed her eyes as she felt his warm lips linger on her skin. She shifted closer to him, pressing her face into his neck as he held her in his arms. After a long moment, Lucy stepped back and looked up at him, her eyes glistening with tears.

"If I cannot be here with you, then I do not wish to be here at all," she whispered, before leaving the stables. The cold night air outside stung her skin and she turned back to see if Felton had followed her. He had not.

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**A/N – So… yeah. Hit me with your thoughts. I think there'll only be like, 3 or 4 chapters more. **


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